


Ghost of a King

by MadameAthena



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare
Genre: I WROTE THIS FOR ENGLISH, M/M, but my teacher loved it, so it's silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 14:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11602227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameAthena/pseuds/MadameAthena
Summary: While doing Macbeth in English I realized that Macbeth and Macduff were really gay for each other and had to write something for it.





	Ghost of a King

Macbeth knew this was the end, the final battle that would decide his fate yet he did not falter in his courage, he had the prophecy of the witches on his side, that no man born of woman could cut him down, so for now he fought, fought with all he could.

Macduff searched the battlefield, the red haze covering the battle that raged on, where was he, where was the man he thought he had once loved, the man who had broken that love, that trust by slaying his family. Macduff ran, he ran and ran and ran till he found the man he searched so hard for, the man that he once cared for. The two lock eyes and Macduff feels the pain, the pain of looking into his eyes and no longer seeing the man he once loved, but rather a shell of his former self. He couldn’t let Macbeth keep going like this, he had to stop him once and for all. Macbeth was waiting for him, a dangerous gleam in his eyes and Macduff briefly wondered if he had looked like this too when he had executed Macduff’s family, his wife and kids.

Something had changed, Macbeth changed so quickly, falling into a never ending pit of guilt and despair till it closed over him, enveloping him in a crazed state, Macduff had tried to help him, to tell him what he had done but Macbeths lips were sealed shut, and there was no key to be found. It hurt Macduff, remembering the good times the two had had together, their love for each other known only to them, they had both agreed to marry a nice woman, start a family to keep their lineage going, Ms Macbeth never could. When Macbeth had become King Macduff knew something was wrong, the man he had grown to love was in a constant state of panic, as if Satan himself loomed over his very shoulders, looking back he might have.

But Macduff tried his hardest to give Macbeth all the love and support he could, but then Macbeth in a state or rage, no jealously killed Macduff’s family, he has truly loved them, his kin, his wife and their death broke him, whatever reason Macduff had left was gone, his heart broken in more ways than one.

Here the two men stood, facing one another, strangers to each other their past lost in the storm that raged over Scotland.

“Turn, hell-hound, turn!”

“Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back; my soul is too much charged, with blood of thine already.”

Macduff stood there, his eyes showing the defeat he felt, there was nothing he could do now, it was too late. “I have no words: My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain, than terms can give thee out!”

And so the battle began, all the anger, and misery and frustration coming out, swords clashing, metal on metal as the two men fought not only for their lives but also their impossible love. And as they fought, wounds slowly collecting they witches slowly walked over the hill, watching to see how it all shall end. To watch the fall of the King. And they fought and fought and fount, getting to the floor and simply punching each other in a desperate attempt to prevail over the other.

And as the two men lay there, Macbeth with a knife at Macduff’s throat he told his of his prophecy, “Thou losest labour: as easy mayst thou the intrenchant air, with thy keen sword impress as make me bleed: let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life, which must not yield, to one of woman born.”

“Despair thy charm; And let the angel whom thou still hast served, tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb, untimely ripp'd.”

And Macbeth stopped, a new look in his eyes, a look of understanding, a look of fear, fear that he was not in fact immoral, but rather a man like everyone else. And he raised his weapon from Macduff’s neck, a solemn feeling washing over him. And Macduff took his chance, attacking Macbeth when his guard was down, a fatal wound, one Macbeth would not survive from. And so the two men stood and talked, a final conversation between to two. And as Macbeth slowly bleed out the two came face to face, softly touching foreheads as the stood there in contentment. And they held each other, their love still strong in the end, an undying love for one another. And as Macbeth passed away, a single kiss did they share, a parting kiss, reminding them of an impossible love.


End file.
